Life is so weird. I don't really know what to make of it.
I feel like life's chew toy, and life is a really hardcore pit bull.
It has me in it's grasp and is just violently shaking it's head back
and forth and growling...I just curl up into the ball that I am and let it.

Stuck
Stuck
Stuck
...how to unstick?
Stuck.

Dream Diary

Ok...I've been awake now and I should have written this down right after I got up...but I had a weird weird dream.

Here's what I remember:
I was looking at the moon and it looked really different. It was amazing. Something weird was going on. It was super bright and the rays were making forms. Suddenly there were these explosions, like fireworks...but they had a lot of smoke ash and rock(?) coming down. Everyone was trying to take cover. I remember I was wearing shorts, cause I was thinking shoot, I wish I had worn pants today as the fallout came down on me.
Then it was like a science fiction movie. There were these shape-shifting aliens and they were trying to kill me. It was hard to know when it was them or when it was a friend of mine, cause they kept shape-shifting. You could figure it out if you paid really close attention. There was a lot of suspense and running. At the end a friend of mine was like, get in the car, they're coming for you. Then she was like, wait, my dog needs to pee. So she let the dog out to pee on the grass and then she peed on the dog. Me and another friend were waiting in the car, but then the other friend said "oh we forgot one thing" and signaled me to get out of the car for a second. Then she said "it's them-RUN!" and we narrowly escaped with our lives...I woke up as we ran away.

I usually wake up an hour earlier than today. I think the dream kept me spellbound, because I always wake up at the same time, give or take a few minutes. My heart was beating really fast when I woke up. I wonder what this means.

Groundhog day...again.

This last week has been a hard one. I hate to sound redundant and/or negative, but Jesus-it's just like fucking Groundhog Day. While I realize that I am the only one that can pull myself out of my loop, I feel helpless to do so. If I can't, then who will?!

No one. Exactly.

Somehow, I've always figured in the recesses of my brain, that there would be a knight in shining armor coming to my emotional rescue (thanks, Mick.). I think he may have had a horrible accident while on the way to pick me up. That, or he never really existed. Oh...or he's just really frickin slow. See, I'm just not ready to let the idea die. Maybe I just need to figure some more stuff out on my own before his arrival. I am not prepared to let go of the idea that there is someone out there for me. A soul mate, a life partner-the yin to my yang.

Last time I saw you
We had just split in two
You were looking at me
I was looking at you
You had a way so familiar
But I could not recognize
Cause you had blood on your face
I had blood in my eyes
But I could swear by your expression
That the pain down in your soul
Was the same as the one down in mine
That's the pain
Cuts a straight line
Down through the heart
We called it love

--Origin of Love (Hedwig & The Angry Inch)

Yeah so, in thinking of all that nonsense, that song came to mind. It's sort of violent in origin, but that's life. I do think that there is someone out there for me that is sort of erupting from inside of my soul. Ok, so maybe that sounded super cheese-but it felt right in my head. How can you argue with that logic?!

Someone suggested this to me in an email recently:

"...Have you sat down and wrote a list of all of the qualities you want in a partner? Do you imagine what he is like? DO IT! You will find that it comes to you. I swear. I have been so lucky to have supportive, kind, loyal men in my life. And I am certain it is because I REALLY focused on the kind of person I wanted in my life. Sometimes I was too strict and unopen. But mostly I was defining what I wanted and asking the universe for it."

Ok, so I sat down and did it, because it seemed to make sense, if only in the sense that it certainly couldn't hurt to know what precisely this chap would look like (and not look like).

Here's what I came up with so far:

Soulmate Qualities:

· Smart

· Honest

· Funny loves to laugh

· Quick wit

· Caring/Empathetic/Sympathetic

· Patient

· Motivated and Motivating/good follow-through

· Slow to anger

· Attractive/Stylish

· Takes good care of himself

· Emotionally available

· Sensitive but manly

· Encouraging

· Spiritual

· Sexual/Sensual

· Artistic

· Good with finances

· Responsible

· Loving/openly affectionate

· Excellent communicator

· Good listener/knows when to just listen

· Good taste in music

· Well read and fairly cultured

Dealbreakers:

· Habitual Smoker

· Big drinker/druggie

· Religious as opposed to Spiritual

· Non-commital

· Emotionally unavailable

· Dishonest

· Inflexible

· Self centered

· Flakey

· Mean to others; trash talker

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

...So now that I've done that, what am I supposed to do?

A/meditate on it

B/make an offering to the Gods, burn shit, chant

C/mail it to Santa/Jesus

D/wait another 41 years

E/all of the above

F/none of the above

...Sigh.

When it comes to dudes, I think it's just best that I don't call, text or facebook.
I am not to be trusted when I have a crappy day or I feel hurt. I can not control my fingers. The neediness just comes pouring out.
Bad fingers.

Retarded Loser Strikes Again...

This is a post where I vent my frustrations instead of acting out.

Mostly I am mad at myself. Mad because I allow myself to fall for guys that are totally emotionally unavailable. They make it very clear. I accept, because I am lonely and figure, well...a friend that I enjoy is better then being alone. Thing is, I'm not so sure it is. Every time I try to engage them via text message or facebook or...whatever the medium we happen be using, I hurt when I'm rejected. I think I lose a little more self esteem every time.

Why do I always have to be the one trying to get together? Even though I know for fact that every time we do hang out we both laugh and enjoy each other, that doesn't seem to encourage them to instigate togetherness. Romantic or otherwise, I feel like this is a pattern that is repeated with everyone. The ones I happen to be romantic with just make it more vividly painful and obvious.
I can't say anything much, or I lose "a friend" and I use that term loosely because clearly a real friend wouldn't make me feel this way. I don't want to seem too needy but, truth be told, I am needy-I need a friend. Sadly, one of the only friends I have here where I have been living for the past year is a guy that I fool around with. Not often, or as often as I would like, but we do. I would be friends with him even if we weren't romantically linked. I mean, he is a cool guy, and like I said, we always have a great time when we're together. So now, I am lonely, really gut wrenchingly lonely...AND I feel rejected because when I try to connect with him (and it's always me trying) and he turns me down, I feel like like shit on the bottom of a shoe. I understand he won't always want to hang out when I ask him...but at least he could be sweet about it-realizing that I am putting myself out there to even ask. Perhaps say something like...tonight isn't good for me, but thanks for asking. How bout sometime next week? Fuck. I feel like acting out. I went to send him an email on this topic...but fell short of sending, as I realized it would just turn him off and away. Not sure I am ready to do that. I then impulsively deleted him as my friend. I figured eventually he'll notice, and go-what the fuck?! But even after doing so, I felt like a bratty little kid acting out, and I re-added him with a note saying "I accidentally deleted you, please re add." I feel like the king of all dipshits. Oh, and yeah, I feel really fucking lonely.

TweetStories #1

Said I:
Dear readers: I am creatively blocked. Please send me ANY ideas for short stories and I promise I'll try em! Could be fun! Respond now!

Said twitter friend supreme:
StereoForBrains@iKeralot Remember the old story about the last man on earth who hears a knock at his door? Write what happens afterward. Sounds interesting

Ok, I'll give it a go.



As he set about his tasks, the phrase "not if you were the last man left on earth"echoed around in Chance's head. It resonated mostly because he was.
(...And yes, he did realize his name was ironic.)

Little did Earth know, earlier that year, but it was just about at the apex of it's doom. Well, human's doom, I should say. The planet didn't explode or fly out of it's gravitational orbit, the people,well...they just died. If there was anyone left to speculate, you can be sure there would be many theories, but alas every last doctor, researcher, scientist and the like, was most assuredly extinct.

Chance had been hiking for about a week on his own. Gathering up silent moments like rare gems, he basked in the absence of noise. The only thing he heard was the birds and the insects and the water pushing past the rocks of his camp. He wasn't antisocial, so much the opposite, that this was the only way he could gather his thoughts when he had to do his "deep thinking".
Some big stuff was going down in his life, and he needed to really think things through without the city noise and computer babble.

At the end of the week, he felt rested and resolved, ready to conquer all of the demons at his door. Actually, some really great things were coming down the wire, and he knew now what he would do next. Looking forward to his life back at home, he drove back into the city. After a week of solitude he had grown rather lonely, and was thinking about his girlfriend slash possible future fiance, Sarah, and what they could order in for dinner.

He had left at the crack of the crack of dawn, in order to make it back before rush hour traffic, and was pleased with himself when there was none. Pleased led to confused, as the sun continued it's climb and the cars didn't exponentially appear. That's strange, he thought, his eyebrows knitting together. ...Ordinarily, he'd be doing a happy dance for the lack of stop and go, but this was just plain wrong. Uneasiness settled in him to the point where his intuition now definitely told him something was horribly wrong. He stopped the car in the center lane of the 405 freeway. No one honked.

After a week of brutal realization, Chance came to understand that he was the only person left. He couldn't say for sure that there was no one left anywhere on god's green earth, but he could pretty much say without a doubt there sure as hell was no one here. Well, no one alive. Never having liked the horror or science fiction genres, his psyche would not let him dwell on the decomposing bodies that littered the streets. He could barely deal with it, so he deftly stuffed those type of details in a tiny room in his brain and firmly locked the door. Body, what dead body? Stench? What stench? He donned a gas mask he acquired at the Army Navy Surplus, and went about his business- the business of coping with the fucking Twilight Zone reality that was now his lot.

I'll just skip the part of his mental breakdown, because really, it's pretty cliche. When one finds themselves in this situation, naturually they are going to melt down. ...Have bad dreams. ...Throw large items off tall buildings while screaming, etc. None of those things changed the reality of it, and, being a pretty level headed guy, he moved on.

After that, as any of us would, he did all the things one thinks of in this macabre scenario. He collected diamonds until he had bags that overflowed. He drove every kind of car he could never afford, as fast as he could. He went through people's homes and looked at their personal and warped effects. It all got pretty old, pretty fast.

He chose a house that suited him inside and out. Never in a million years did he imagine that he would live in such a beautiful home. He spent weeks filling it with every creature comfort he could think of. Of course all food had to be imperishable, but in this day and age, that was pretty doable. He stocked and decorated, till he was pretty sure he had the best damn fortress any one could ever imagine. This took up weeks of his time, and he singlemindedly went about doing it.

Once done, the silence, no longer like a rare gem, was now oppressive. He longed for the city noise and often dreampt about it...waking up only to hear a nothingness so loud it hurt his eardrums. Laying in what could factually be called the most comfortable bed known to man, he looked out the window and really contemplated the nothingness. In that silence of silence, a sudden knock on the door made his heart stop. His stomach dropped like rock thrown into the ocean. The noise echoed through the house, or was it just in his head, sharp and loud, a staccato beat. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He couldn't move, he was frozen and suddenly so dizzy and cold, his last thought before his heart gave out...

"This is seriously fucked, now I'll never know who was at the godamned door."

Don't read this and DON'T comment....

Why do we care if people read our blogs or not? Why do we crave comments?
Do we write to be read and acknowledged, or do we write to vent and to engage our creative minds? I guess it's healthy to say all of the above, I'd be lying otherwise.

If you read me, I'd love to know...the universe can feel awfully big and we can feel awfully small. Generally though, you can wait until I say something really profound or something that resonates with you...but then, no excuses...please chime in.

If you comment on this blog though, you're just a kiss ass. Ha ha. Kidding...
(...or am I?!)